18 Things I Do When I Get My Hair Done

There are two places in this world where I feel insecure: Platos Closet and the hair salon. Because I no longer feel like I’m good enough to give clothes to Platos, let’s talk about the hair salon today.

1. I walk inside and immediately feel judged by the receptionist.
Am I too late? Too early? Too ugly? Why is she glaring at me? Why does she make me feel like I’m bothering her?

2. I panic when I’m offered a beverage.
Because I’m cheap and I know I’m already going to walk out with a $200 bill and I’m not sure if the “soda or wine” they’ve offered me is free.

3. I immediately regret not taking that soda or wine when the girl after me accepts it and I realize it is indeed free. Damn it!

4. I wonder if I can go back to devil receptionist girl and say “on second thought, I’ll take that soda.”
But it’s too late. She’ll see right through me.

5. When receptionist girl #2 hands me a robe I suddenly act like I’ve never seen something so crazy before and I don’t know how to work something so complex.
“Um it goes on like this,” she says as she helps me into it like I am 90 year old woman. And I mumble, “oh yea, that’s the, how the ….okay.“

6. The minute I sit down in the stylist’s chair I suddenly feel the urge to blurt out 100 different excuses why my hair looks so bad.

7. None of them matter. She’s going to look at my hair like I’ve been living in a dumpster and make a comment along the lines of “so like how long has it been since your last cut and color?” anyway.

8. And then she’s probably going to make a comment about “whoever did your hair last really cut it unevenly…” I know my hair looks bad, that’s why I’m here. No need to shit on the Groupon inspired stylist who came before you.

9. When she asks me what I want done I show her a photo of a beautiful celebrity, usually Reese Whitherspoon or Kate Hudson, and say I’d like to look exactly like her. Good luck.

10. The minute the stylist walks away into her magic closet to get foils and hair dye I try not to look in the mirror. I’m not sure if it’s the lighting at salons, or the fact I’m already feeling insecure, but when I look in a salon mirror I see every terrible blemish, line, and dark spot on my face I don’t want to see.

11. But I can’t resist the urge with a mirror that big and proceed to take a “I’m pretty” selfie anyway.

11. When the stylist comes back she starts to make small talk and I play along. And then when the small talks ends soon after it started, I feel awkward for about the next five minutes wondering if I should try to continue it. I never do. She doesn’t either, and I think we’re both okay with it.

12. One hour in I start to lose it and I remember why I only get my hair done once (twice if I’m feeling super crazy) per year. I hate sitting for that long. I absolutely hate it. It’s not relaxing for me, it’s stressful.

13. When I’m told to sit under the dryer I get excited just because I know it’s only a matter of time before someone rinses me. Having another person wash your hair is one of life’s finer luxuries. Most times I have to restrain myself from actually saying, “Get it, girl. That’s right, you know how I like it,” out loud…

14. The rinsing feels great until it doesn’t. And then my head gets stiff from lying at an awkward angle on a cold porcelain sink and I begin to wonder why I didn’t just box color at home. A bleachy orange ‘do never hurt anyone.

15. By the time the blow drying and trimming begins I am so ready to leave I have to remind myself I’m not a toddler and I need to settle down. The stylist can give me a bowl cut for all I care. I just want to be done.

16. I try not to look at myself until it’s completely finished. I like to save the excitement/disappointment for the very end.

17. And when it’s finally done and I get to check out the cut and color, I’m always meh about it. Don’t get me wrong, the hair is fine. I’m just usually disappointed my face still looks like mine and not like Reese’s or Kate’s.

18. I pay my bill, which somehow always turns out more than expected, fret about how much to tip, and walk out thinking I better go have a drink tonight. Because new hair, whether you like it or not, always calls for a drink.